Lost Until You Found Me
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Harry finds himself in a cell after losing the battle to Voldemort. Who will save him and will they have a happy ending? Warning - Character Death, Slash.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

**A/N - Written for the Everything Is Drarry Contest, using the prompt Red. Written for the Monopoly Game Challenge, using the prompts Phoenix, Hurt/Comfort, and AU!**

Harry sat on the floor of his cell, staring through empty eyes at the door that would never open. He had lost, and in losing, had doomed the world. His friends, every last one of them, were either dead or sat in similar cells to his own. If he was honest with himself, he believed the dead had the better deal. Ron had been put in the cell next to him, Harry knew, because he had heard him screaming for a few days after. Of course the screaming stopped eventually, Sirius' voice reminded him. It always did.

Hermione had been one of the first to die, followed by most of the Weasley family, and Luna, and countless others. Harry had been forced to watch every single one of them drop to the floor, thankful in the end for the deaths caused by Avada Kedavra. Watching the death eaters compete with each other to find the best and most inventive way to kill someone had been torture of he worst kind to Harry. He had been thrown in this cell shortly after watching Voldemort kill Remus, Lucius Malfoy's sneering face was the last thing he had seen.

Harry leant his head back against the wall, tears streaming down his face. Why were they keeping him here? Was the whole point of this war not, in large part, to make sure he was dead. At this point, all he could hope for was death, there was nothing left worth living for. The cell door clicked, and a hooded figure opened it, his wand pointed right at Harry to make sure he didn't fight. Harry contemplated the idea of trying to fight, if only to ensure his death, but it was the cowards way. Harry was anything but a coward.

He watched the figure fiddle with his sleeve for a second before he shook the hood down. Harry stayed where he was, tilting his head to the side, waiting for the taunts that were sure to come. The blonde hair of the man in front of him had grown out since Harry had seen him last, but then, it had been almost a year. Draco opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and finally spoke.

"You need to be ready tomorrow night. I'm going to get you out of here, but you need to be ready," his voice was urgent, panicked even, as he spoke in whispers, checking behind him to make sure he wasn't overheard.

"Why?" Harry croaked out, his throat protesting. He hadn't had a drink since yesterday morning.

"Here," Draco muttered, passing over a small bottle of water. Harry drank greedily, the luke warm water the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

"Why?" Harry asked again quietly.

"Because I never wanted you to die Potter, much as I disliked you. I... I have a safe place for you, somewhere you can get better and escape. Go to America or somewhere, far, far away, Potter, somewhere you can live your life without worrying about him."

"You'll come with me. If you are going to rescue me, you need to come too. I won't let you save me and come back here."

Draco just stared at him for a second. "I can't. Be ready."

The cell door closed with a clang, and Harry leaned back against the wall once again, staring at the door without really seeing it. He might have a chance. But why? He and Draco had never liked each other, had never got on, and when Draco had fled Hogwarts, Harry was ready to kill him. So, why would he now try and safe him.

Maybe its a trap.

Or maybe, he's actually trying to save you.

Either way, Harry thought, this time tomorrow, he would either be in a safe place with a chance to escape, or he would be dead. Harry fell asleep with a faint smile on his face.

.x

Draco opened the cell door quietly, gesturing to Harry to stand up. Harry did as he was told, his legs feeling like jelly underneath him. Draco covered him with an invisibility cloak.

"Whatever you do, make sure to stay very close to me and be silent."

Draco led Harry through corridor after corridor, a winding maze, filled with locked cells, screams, and the horrible coldness Harry associated with Dementors. Ten minutes later they hit fresh air and Harry inhaled deeply. It was so good to be outside again.

"Here, use this portkey, it will take you away."

"Come with me," Harry replied, taking hold of Draco's wrist.

"I told you I can't," Draco hissed. "Take the bloody portkey before they realise you are gone!"

"I'm not going anywhere unless you come with me. Please Draco," Harry whispered, the plea in his voice obvious.

Draco starred at Harry for a moment before he took hold of his hand carefully. "You've just signed my father's death warrant."

And they were portkeyed away, the familiar feeling of falling through space comforting to Harry, although not as comforting as the warmth of the hand still holding his own.

They arrived in a small room, one with a single bed, a chair, a simple kitchen, and a door, Harry supposed led to a bathroom.

"I know it's not much -" Draco began, but Harry cur him off.

"It's great. What did you mean, I signed your father's death warrant?" He asked as he sat down on the bed.

"When I don't arrive to the daily meeting, they'll know it's me that helped you escape. They'll kill him. They already killed my mother," Draco whispered. He sat down next to Harry on the bed and he cried.

Harry wrapped his arms around his once rival, pulling him into his chest and he just held him as he wept.

Some time later, after they had eaten, they hedged around where they would each sleep.

"You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the chair," Draco said, slumping into the chair, trying to get comfy. Harry stared at him for a moment before taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.

"I know it's only a single, but we can share. We're both skinny enough," he muttered.

Getting into bed, they lay back to back, each very much aware of the other. When they woke in the morning, neither of them mentioned that Harry was spooning Draco.

.x

_Six Months Later._

Harry walked down the driveway to the house he shared with his boyfriend, the sun shining down, it was a beautiful day in Phoenix, Arizona. He had been living here with Draco for almost four months and he wouldn't change anything. They occasionally caught new from england, none of it good, but thankfully, the war didn't seem to have an effect on America as a whole. He walked through the open front door, calling for Draco, who was more than likely in the kitchen.

When he didn't find him in the house, he wandered through to the back yard and was stopped in his tracks by the most heart wrenching thing he had ever seen.

Draco lay in the middle of the grass, surrounded by death eater masks, laid out in a perfect circle. A small dark mark hovered above him.

Harry walked towards him in a trance and dropped to the grass beside him. Tears were blinding him but he didn't care. Dark red blood covered Draco's torso. Harry took his t shirt off, covering Draco with it, and gently closed his eyes.

Kissing him softly on the lips, he whispered, "I love you, I'll see you soon."

Determination filled him as he apparated to England in one shot, an unheard of feat. Appearing directly in front of Voldemort, he had cast the killing curse before anyone could even blink. As the death eaters all turned their wands on him, he smiled at them.

_"I'm on my way Draco."_


End file.
